There have been clouds over Anchorage for the last 30 some days in fact.
A gloomy haze that is threatening to ruin moods throughout the state.
We beat the previous record that was set in the 1950’s.
This is not why I moved to Alaska.
A coworker of mine is working on finishing up his degree online, and as a part of that he is taking a few beginning level psych classes (to cover his general education requirements). Knowing that my degree is in psychology, he’s talked to me a few times about his projects. He’s currently reading a book about a woman with schizophrenia for his abnormal psych class, and as we were talking about it today; I got jealous.
Really and truly.
I was jealous of him and his school work. I was jealous that he was learning about these conditions that I find so fascinating.
I was jealous of the coursework he’s taking, even though I’ve been there and done that.
And it got me thinking: where did that period of my life go?
I loved school. I always loved school. I loved learning, and I loved submitting projects that I had worked oh so hard on.
I even loved taking tests.
As completely warped as that is. I think it was the validation that I knew what I was talking about that I liked.
I just loved the environment. I loved feeling like there was so much to soak in.
College was a good time for me.
And as I was talking to him today, I started to daydream about those years again. I started to ponder going back.
That had always been the plan after all.
I was going to go back to school and get my masters. I was going to become a psychologist. I was going to work with abused and neglected children and help to turn their lives around.
And therein lays the problem with that dream now. Forget that I would come out of school making half of what I make today (after paying at least my current annual salary to get that degree); I just honestly don’t think I could do what I had always intended on doing anymore.
As much as I love kids. As much as I think I could make a difference.
I don’t think I could do it.
Not now. Not after this last 2 years. Not after everything I’ve gone through to have one of my own.
I don’t think I could look at those children who deserved so much more and not feel like we had both been slighted.
I could totally go back to school. I could go to classes every day and learn and grow and thrive. I could read and study and write reports.
I could set the curve, and I would love it.
But I would never want to graduate.
I would never want to apply what I had learned.
I would end up sitting behind a desk 9-5 just like I am now.
Guaranteed.
Because this I can handle.
That I could not.
Still… I miss school. I wonder what happened to that point in my life when I was so excited about learning and growing; so full of hope for the future.
So sure that one day I would change the lives of children who really needed me.
Children much like the little girl I once was; broken and sad and lost.
I miss thinking that one day I would have it in me to make that difference.
And on days (or months) like this one (smack dab in the middle of the summer that is supposed to be the hands down reason to live in Alaska); I miss San Diego too.
The only time I ever remember it raining like this in San Diego, I was actually at school running from building to building because I didn’t even own an umbrella (I still don’t). I had just reached the safety of a hallway, and had managed to pop the lens out of my glasses while trying to rid them of the mist from outside (the mist that was so wholly uncommon in San Diego). I was crawling around on the floor looking for that lens I could no longer see when an attractive classmate of mine who I had tutored once upon a time scooped it up and helped me off the ground.
It was at that moment that I decided to have Lasik surgery – but that’s another story in itself (and really, I do seem to be doing quite a bit of wandering today.)
I miss San Diego some days. I miss the girl I was there. I miss the sun, and the warmth. I miss the beach and my friends.
I miss Mexican food.
But when I think about moving back, I can’t imagine really doing that. You can’t go backwards in life, and going back to San Diego would feel like going backwards. It would feel like giving up. It would feel like admitting that the life I came here to have would never be within my reach.
The life I still don’t think I could ever have there.
That much hasn’t changed.
San Diego and college were a great period of my life, but that period is over for a reason.
And really, I do just adore Alaska. Even on days like today, when I look outside and the sun is nowhere to be seen; there is still beauty everywhere.
I have a good job.
And good friends.
And I have different dreams. Dreams that suit this next stage. Dreams that will one day come true.
It’s still crazy for me to think that that part of my life really is over and gone though. That my college days are now years past, and instead of renting on the beach while partying my early 20’s away, I'm a homeowner in Alaska who is trying desperately to make a baby.
And that’s where I realize what’s missing.
My youth.
I’m a grown up. A grown up with realistic (arguably) goals and expectations for the life ahead. A grown up who is able to look at the old dreams and think “that wouldn’t really work for me anymore.”
I’m a grown up.
Living in Anchorage, Alaska; where I fear the sun will never shine again.
And I can’t help but wonder:
Where did it go?
